The Overly Long Engagement
by GoodShipSherlollipop
Summary: What if Sherlock, pondering on the length of Molly's engagement to Tom, realizies he wants her for himself and decided to take action? Set during S3:02 (Part 3 of my "Realizations of Love Dreams" series). Sherlolly.
1. The Overly Long Engagement

Thanks, M Sherlock for beta'ing.

 **Author update 11/18/18** , I have just replaced the title cover with a wonderful manip by **kstewmanipulaation** from Tumblr, who very kindly gave me permission to use it for a cover picture - isn't it wonderful? Don't you wish this had been canon in the show?

In addition, because I needed to change this chapter to add the information on the new picture, I have removed the dream italics.

* * *

Sherlock was pacing the floor of his sitting room. _Why?_ he wondered silently, the word repeating itself in his brain. _Why?_

For months now he had been keeping out of Molly's way as much as possible. He didn't seek her out to talk with her. In fact they had only spoken if he was working on a case with a corpse for which she had done a post-mortem. To be honest, he missed the camaraderie they had once shared, when they had talked easily with one another about trivial things as well as ones related to work.

Ever since she had been engaged though, he had felt unable to be himself with her. It was as if the invisible presence of her fiancé stood between them. Molly was no longer his pathologist, she belonged to Tim or Todd - whatever his name was.

When he wasn't busy with cases, Sherlock had been helping John and Mary, mostly Mary, plan their wedding. Yesterday she had reminded him about John's stag night, and that it was his responsibility to do something for it. Then she had said something in passing that made Sherlock get a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach.

"Oh, here's an acceptance for the wedding from Molly and her fiancé. Here we are, finalizing the details for the wedding, and Molly hasn't even set a date yet for hers. Isn't that odd?" Sherlock knew that Mary and Molly would talk on occasion. They had seemed to get on well when they had met that day when Molly had brought her fiancé over to Baker Street. Neither of the women had any relatives to speak of, so he supposed it wasn't really surprising that they had bonded over their mutual aloneness, in a way.

After Mary's comment however, Sherlock had mentally calculated how many months Molly had been engaged. It had been at least seven months, even if she had only got engaged just before he returned to London. Surely that was an unreasonably long time to be engaged without setting a wedding date?

Much as he tried to push Molly from his mind, he was finding it more and more difficult. He didn't just miss their friendship, he missed _her_. It was time to figure out why she was dragging her heels. Sherlock decided he could use his hastily constructed plans for John's stag night as a pretext to talk with Molly.

His mind made up, Sherlock set off for the hospital where he knew Molly was working today. He managed to get through his little decoy speech about the stag night, unintentionally offending her in the process. It did, however, lead to an opening for him.

"You look...well." Actually she didn't look any more or less well than she usually did, but it was part of his plan to draw out some information from her.

"I am," she responded with a little smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"How's..." He searched his mind palace desperately, wanting to get the name right for once, to show that he paid attention to things which concerned her. His mind flashed back to that conversation when she had told him her fiancé's name. Ah yes, that was it, at least he was fairly certain of it - "Tom?"

"Not a sociopath." He deserved that little dig, especially after his comment about her not always falling for sociopaths.

"Still?" he responded, nodding sagely. "Good."

He was just trying to think of what to say next when she volunteered, out of the blue, "And we're having quite a lot of sex."

Immediately he was suspicious of that. Was she baiting him? Trying to get a reaction? A tiny spark of hope flared within him, maybe things were not quite as they seemed between her and this Tom character. What possible motivation could she have had for saying what she had said if she didn't want to get a reaction?

He wasn't going to give her that satisfaction though. So he merely said, "Okay," and proceeded to tell her what he wanted her to do in regard to calculating his and John's alcohol intake for the stag night.

He walked to the door of the lab and then deliberately turned, wanting to catch Molly off-guard. "So, Molly, I was wondering - why haven't you set a wedding date yet?" He raised a brow casually as he asked the question.

He knew he had succeeded in his quest when she stammered her response. "I, uh…well, I've been busy."

He took a step back towards her. "You've been too busy for seven months to set a date?"

"Eight months," she mumbled, then looked up at him. "Why do you care anyway? You haven't shown the slightest interest in talking to me outside of work since I became engaged. I feel like we're not even friends anymore."

He moved still closer. "I do care, Molly. That's why I have been giving you your space. It would seem to me that most people would have set a date for their wedding by this time. Some of them would already be married. Look at John and Mary," he pointed out, drawing his brows together thoughtfully. "You became engaged at around the same time and their wedding is coming up in just over a month." He reached her and took her wrist, placing his fingers over it gently.

Molly flushed and snatched it back from his grasp. "Leave me alone."

"Fine. Will you bring these papers back to Baker Street tonight?" He gestured at the papers he had left with her, to aid her in determining the correct alcohol intake for creating a lightheaded effect with alcohol.

She sighed. "I'll text you when I'm on my way."

"Thank you." He left the lab feeling rather smug. He had detected her accelerated pulse. She was still affected by him. It was time to make Molly Hooper realize she deserved better than a pale imitation of Sherlock Holmes.

At home, Sherlock decided he should make a list with the reasons why Molly should not marry Tom. When she came over later, he would present it to her and make a case for himself. He opened his laptop and began to type.

He thought a moment, and decided to use the title, _Reasons why Molly should not marry Tom._ He looked at the title then decided to change it, to make it more personal. He wanted her to read it as if it came from him rather than a third person, which of course it did. He altered the title to read, _Reasons why you should not marry Tom._

Then he began to compile the list.

 _In eight months, you have still not set a wedding date, therefore your affections are obviously not engaged as they should be for the man to whom you are promised._

 _This is self-explanatory,_ he thought to himself.

 **2.** _Tom is too immature for you._

Okay, he didn't really know Tom, but the guy was obviously several years younger than Molly, which would imply he did not have her maturity level. Of course he himself was not the most mature of men, but he _was_ trying to improve himself of late. He had almost written that Tom was too young for her, but thought that might be a bit insensitive, to highlight their obvious age difference. Sherlock was not trying to push Molly away from himself as well, after all.

 **3.** _He is too tall for you._

 _This_ was a bit of a stretch. Sherlock himself was about 9 inches taller than Molly, but he remembered Tom being a good 3 inches taller than he was. He wondered what it would be like to kiss Molly. Would he bend down to kiss her, or would she stand on her tiptoes? Maybe they would do both?

The thought kept him intrigued for several minutes, daydreaming about doing just that. He had the feeling it would be very enjoyable to kiss Molly, but it also worried him because he lacked the practical experience of it.

He was lacking in _any_ type of expression of sentiment, for that matter. The most he had ever done was kiss her cheek. Oh yes, he guessed he had bent down to do that. She had such a soft cheek. Would her lips feel that way too?

He suddenly realized that daydreaming about that was causing his own pulse to quicken. He did not have time for that. He needed to make sure the list was finished before she arrived.

It was time to start making comparisons between the other man and himself.

 **4.** _Tom does not appreciate your line of work the way I do._

He was fairly certain this would be accurate. Most men were not very comfortable with Molly's profession. Sherlock, on the other hand, enjoyed the way they could talk intelligently together about corpses and causes of death. Their professions were in perfect alignment.

 **5.** _Tom doesn't appreciate you, the person, the way I do._

Of course, he really had no idea if that was true. He just wanted Molly to know that he did truly appreciate her, cared for her even. It was as close to a declaration of emotional sentiment he could manage on paper. Would that be enough to make her consider breaking off her engagement?

His text alert sounded and he glanced at it.

 _Analysis complete for correct alcohol intake. Bringing over the results._

He smiled and texted back, _Come right up, the door will be unlocked for you._

He headed downstairs to unlock the door to the street, in preparation for Molly's arrival.

Twenty minutes later, Sherlock heard the unmistakeable sound of Molly's footsteps coming up the stairs. Suddenly he felt a little nervous, and he took a few deep, calming breaths. It was show time. Now he just had to convince Molly Hooper that _he_ , not Tom, was the man for her.

* * *

 **Author's note 2:** This is the first chapter of my second _Realizations of Love Dreams_ series, which follows _Sherlock's True Pressure Point._

Are you curious to find out what happens next? Any guesses? Next chapter is a Molly POV.

Reviews (even guest ones) appreciated.

 **1/25/20** A couple corrections.


	2. Broken Engagement

After Sherlock left the lab, Molly stripped off her gloves and put her head in her hands. Why did she allow this man to affect her so?

He had virtually ignored her for months, and suddenly now he was acting like they were the best of friends. She just didn't understand it. When he had asked about Tom, she had decided on the spur of the moment to test him, to see whether he might actually care for her. He hadn't reacted as she had hoped he would, when she had lied about her relationship with Tom.

But then, curiously, he had asked why she hadn't set a wedding date, and it had got her thinking.

She lifted her face from her hands and stared with unseeing eyes at the opposite wall, contemplating Sherlock's quite reasonable question to her. Realization hit her like a bolt of lightning. She had been trying to convince herself that she could be happy with Tom, yet she had constantly put off setting a wedding date. There was always some excuse, whenever Tom pressed her about it. Now she knew how unfair she was being to him. Seeing Sherlock today had showed her clearly that she was still in love with him, would always be in love with him.

She couldn't marry Tom. Not now, after this. Even if she had no future with Sherlock, Tom deserved better than being her second choice.

With a heavy heart, she forced herself to put her gloves back on and concentrate on the specimens in front of her. As soon as she was done with work she needed to see Tom. It wouldn't be right to break up with him over text. Fortunately she knew this was his day off from working in his dad's jewellery store.

Molly managed to do her little "assignment" for Sherlock during her lunch break. She had to face the fact that she would do anything for him. That, in and of itself, was a clear indication that she was still in love with the man. She also texted Tom to let him know she was coming to see him after work. He sent a return text asking if there was something wrong, but she didn't respond.

Fortunately, when Molly arrived to see Tom, he was the only one home. He still lived with his parents but they were both at the jewellery store.

Tom let Molly in at her knock and then asked, with a curious, yet not suspicious note in his voice. "What's going on, Molly? It's not like you to spontaneously decide to come and see me on a workday - not that I'm complaining of course." He leaned in to kiss Molly but she pulled away.

This wasn't going to be easy. "Tom," she said hesitatingly, twisting her fingers together in front of herself, "I'm so sorry to do this to you after all I've put you through, and how patient you've been with me." Her gaze dropped from his face to the floor, and she swallowed, knowing she was about to break his heart.

She glanced back up and saw Tom's expression darken, as he crossed his arms in front of himself defensively. "If you are about to say what I think you are going to say, don't bother. I've been suspecting for a while there's someone else, despite your denials."

His words surprised her. He had given no indication of his suspicions and she flushed. Had he seen this coming before she had even known it herself?

She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "It's not what you think, Tom. I'm not seeing anybody else." She looked down at her still restless fingers, and took a deep breath before bringing her gaze back to his now suspicious one. "But there is someone who I tried for a long time to forget. He was out of my life when we met, and I didn't think I'd ever see him again. You and I were already engaged when he came back into my life. I thought I was over him, and I tried so desperately to forget him, but I just realized I'm being unfair to you."

She lifted an arm to put a hand placatingly on his arm, but he shrugged it off, and it fell back limply to her side. She bit her lip and continued, feeling the words dragged from her mouth. "I've never been able to give you my whole heart because part of it has always belonged to him." She felt tears come into her eyes as she saw the hurt in his.

He lifted a hand to rub his face as if trying to comprehend what she was saying to him.

Her lips trembled and her voice wobbled as she continued. "I'm so sorry, Tom. You deserve better."

With that, she pulled off her engagement ring and held it out to him.

Tom remained standing in front of her, unmoving, ignoring the proffered ring. They looked at each other for several seconds without speaking, until finally he said,"It's him, isn't it? Sherlock Holmes? I know he was out of London for a long time, and it seems things got weird between us around the time you introduced me to your friends." There was both hurt and resignation in his voice.

Molly hung her head in shame, even as she continued to hold the ring out to him, wishing he would just take it already. She couldn't even look at him anymore so she directed her words somewhere in the vicinity of his shoes. "Please don't think too badly of me, Tom. Sherlock and I, well, we have a kind of history together."

She forced herself to look back up at him again, realizing for the first time how much he towered above her. "Don't get me wrong. There's never been anything more than friendship between us, my feelings for him have always been one-sided. I really thought you and I could be happy together. If Sherlock hadn't come back, I'm sure things would've been different."

 _Oh God, this is so hard,_ she thought to herself as tears pricked her eyes once again.

"You're a good man, Tom, but you deserve someone who can give you their whole heart, and I don't have that to give to you." And now, tears began to fall freely down Molly's face.

Tom finally took the ring and shoved it into his pocket. His voice was cold as he said, "I guess I should be grateful that you at least told me in person. I suppose you never wanted to have sex with me because you were still hung up on...him." The words were meant to be hurtful and they stung, as he intended them to.

Molly shook her head, brushing her tears away with one hand. "You know that's not why, Tom. I told you about my faith and that I wanted to wait until we were married."

"Guess you'll be a virgin till the day you die then, won't you, if your love is one-sided? So good luck with that," hissed Tom cruelly. "I should've just broken up with you as soon as I found out you were one. Thanks to you, I haven't had sex in God only knows how long. You've led me on for months."

She took an involuntary step backwards at the vitriol in his words. "I wasn't trying to," she sobbed, even as she understood his anger and knew she deserved it.

"You've said what you came to say, so now you can just get out," said Tom, and his voice was hard, dismissive. He pointed at the door to indicate there would be no more conversation.

"I'm sorry," whispered Molly brokenly as she turned on her heel and left his place for the last time.

She stood outside his front door for several minutes, trying to compose herself, then hailed a taxi and gave the driver instructions to head to Baker Street. While her heart ached for Tom, and his understandable anger towards her, she knew she had done the right thing. She also knew that there would never again be anyone for her besides Sherlock. Even if they were never anything more than friends, his friendship meant more to her than the love of any other man, and she would just be content with that. Perhaps she would buy a cat to replace Toby, who had disappeared shortly after Sherlock had stayed with her following his faked death.

Taking a deep breath, Molly pulled out her phone and sent a text to Sherlock to let him know she was on her way. His answering text came back almost immediately, instructing her to head straight upstairs when she got there, that the door would be open for her.

Suddenly she felt as if a burden had been lifted from her heart. For so long she had been trying to do the right thing, to convince herself that she should remain loyal to Tom. Now she knew that had been a mistake and that she should have broken things off with him immediately after she realized she still had strong feelings for Sherlock.

She understood that part of the reason she had tried to make things work with Tom was because she wanted a family of her own. Now she realized that having a family with Tom would not have made her happy. Her true happiness would always lie in time spent with Sherlock, in whatever capacity that happened to be. She would be content with that, just having him back in her life on a more regular basis, if indeed he even wished for that.

As Molly climbed the stairs towards 221B a short time later, she wondered idly weather Sherlock would notice the lack of an engagement ring. She decided she was not going to bring it up on her own. That might mean him asking some questions that she would prefer not to answer. The one thing she knew for sure was that she would never want Sherlock to feel pressured in any way to examine his own feelings for her. If he wanted a relationship with her that extended beyond friendship, it would have to be something he decided for himself. Regardless, she would cherish every moment they spent together, and she would love him unconditionally.

Sherlock opened the door before she knocked. He had obviously heard her footsteps. _Why does he have to always look so handsome?_ she wondered to herself, as she held out the folder to him.

"Hi, Sherlock. By my calculations, you should be able to tolerate 443.7 mL at each pub if you want to maintain a lightheaded feeling throughout your pub crawl," she said brightly, trying not to show any outward sign of how he affected her.

"Thank you, Molly," Sherlock said, taking the folder from her. "Are you planning on just staying in the doorway or are you going to come in?" he asked, moving away from the door to invite her entrance, and Molly stepped into the flat.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Well, it was about time Molly broke things off, wasn't it? At least in this story Tom won't have to suffer the indignity of having his hand stabbed with a fork during the wedding reception!

I hope you enjoyed seeing Molly's POV and are looking forward to the discussion ahead.

 **1/25/20** Italics removed.


	3. Engaged in Important Conversation

Sherlock looked closely at Molly as she entered. He could see clear evidence of tear stains on her face, and her eyes were slightly red-rimmed.

"Cup of tea?" he offered, walking into the kitchen to put the kettle on without even waiting for her response. He set the folder down on the kitchen table - there was no need to look at it, for now.

He was very aware of the fact that this was the first time Molly had been in his flat since the day she had introduced Tom to everyone. On the one occasion, when he had texted her with a request for eyeballs to experiment with, she had not come up to the flat, but dropped them off with Mrs. Hudson, much to the elderly woman's chagrin.

As he began readying their cups for tea, Molly stood hesitantly at the entrance to the kitchen. He glanced at her, then stated the obvious.

"You've been crying."

"I was hoping you wouldn't notice, or, would at least pretend you didn't notice," she responded with a wry smile, absently rubbing her face, as if the tears were still falling.

"I notice everything about you, Molly," he said, glancing her way once more. "Care to enlighten me as to why you've been crying?"

"Not really," was her quick, defensive response.

She backed away from the kitchen entrance, as if to make certain he would not question her further.

Sherlock noted the gesture and shrugged to himself.

They didn't speak again until the tea was ready.

He walked into the sitting room with the cups and gestured for Molly to sit on the sofa, which she did, perching rather nervously on the edge of it, as if she might take flight at any moment. Instead of sitting in his usual chair, Sherlock decided to sit beside her, after setting their cups on the coffee table.

He noted that Molly appeared apprehensive at his nearness, as she said, not quite meeting his eyes, "Thank you for the tea, Sherlock."

She picked up her cup and took a sip, keeping her eyes fixed anywhere but on him.

Sherlock could feel the awkwardness between them. He didn't like it at all. They had always worked so well together in the past, and this feeling of tension between them was rather uncomfortable.

As Molly set her cup back onto the coffee table, Sherlock noticed something he hadn't seen before. That explained the tears, obviously.

She was no longer wearing her engagement ring. Should he address the elephant in the room?

 _No time like the present,_ he decided. At least it would no longer be necessary for him to show her his list to help her realize Tom was not the man for her.

Trying for a casual tone, he said, "Sorry your engagement's over, although I'm fairly grateful for the lack of a ring."

Molly's head jerked upwards, as she looked at him for the first time since he had brought in the tea. She gave him a rather perplexed stare.

"What difference does it make to you, really? Do you think it will mean I have more time to find you body parts for your experiments?"

 _She seriously thinks she's nothing more to me than a means to an end?_

Sure, he had taken advantage of her generosity on occasion years earlier, but not since he had come back to London - well, unless you counted today, but that was because he had a specific purpose in mind.

"Molly, surely you are aware that you mean more to me than that? You're my friend. Will you tell me what happened?"

He paused, searching her face for a negative reaction. Seeing none, he pushed on. "What caused you to break off your engagement?"

Molly squared her shoulders in a defensive posture. "If you really must know, it was what you said to me earlier. It got me thinking, and I realized that I wasn't being fair to Tom in not setting a date for our wedding. So I broke it off."

You went to see him, then?" He kept his tone casual, trying not to seem too interested in her answer.

Molly frowned at him, as if the question was an insult. "Sherlock, we were engaged for eight months. It would hardly have been fair to break up over text. Of course I went to see him!"

She sounded exasperated, and he tried to calm her. "I apologize, Molly. I have no idea on the protocol of such things. I, myself, have never been in a situation such as yours."

He attempted to keep his tone light, matter-of-fact. "And his reaction?"

Molly gave him a suspicious look. He had obviously failed in his attempt at easy familiarity. "Why are you asking me all these questions? How is it any of your business?" she snapped.

Sherlock searched his mind palace for an appropriate response that would placate her. "I told you, you're my friend. Don't friends share things with one another?"

Molly folded her arms and looked at him with a narrowed gaze. "You sure haven't acted like a friend over the past few months." Her response was more hostile than he had anticipated, and Sherlock felt his heart sink. Was she really that angry with him?

He attempted to keep his tone even. "I explained that to you once already. I told you I kept my distance because I knew you needed space."

"So, are you saying that now I've broken off my engagement, you want things with us to go back to the way they were before?" Molly look directly at him, challenging him.

"Not really." Unthinkingly, he echoed her earlier words.

He caught the hurt and confused expression immediately in her eyes as she abruptly stood.

"Well, I think we're done here. Thanks for the tea." Her voice wobbled slightly, and Sherlock could hear the pain in it as she said the words, a pain that matched her expression.

He looked up at her, instinctively grasping her wrist to prevent her departure. "Molly, please. That was...a poor choice of words. You misunderstood me." He had to do something to stop her from leaving. _The list,_ he decided, _I'll show her the list._

She glanced from her wrist to his face. "It seems pretty clear to me. You don't want things to go back to the way they were before, that's fine. This isn't my idea of friendship, it's my idea of casual...acquaintances."

He rose hastily from the sofa. "Wait," he said, "I have something I need to show you." He released her wrist and walked over to his desk, where he'd left the list.

He picked it up and approached Molly once again, thrusting it at her almost aggressively. "Read this," he urged.

Molly took the list from him, and he noticed her expression change as she read it, from one of hurt to one of bemusement.

"Why did you write this?" she asked, glancing at him uncertainly.

Instead of answering her, he responded with his own question. "Don't you know why?"

"No, I don't know why."

 _Oh, you want to play things out that way, do you?_

"Of course you do, Molly."

He saw a light in her eyes that hadn't been there before. "Tell me anyway." Her voice was suddenly confident, sure of herself.

Sherlock snatched the paper away from her and tossed it on the floor haphazardly. _Stubborn woman,_ he grumbled mentally. He knew if he wanted this chance - his only chance with her, he was going to have to confess how he felt about her in words, rather than in merely hints of his intentions.

Without much thought at all, he reached to take both of her hands in his, then took a deep breath, preparing to express his innermost feelings for her for the first time.

"I wrote it, Molly Hooper, because I love you, dammit. Because I've missed being with you, spending time together."

There, it was out. He'd said it. He took another breath, a sharp intake this time and asked quickly, "Are you happy now?"

Molly pulled her hands free with a tug, and at first, he thought in despair that he'd lost, that she was going to leave. But instead, she reached up to clasp her hands behind his neck, and she pulled him down to her level.

Her voice was soft, and it held a caressing note in it as her lips curved upwards in a gentle smile."Yes, very happy."

Then her face erupted into the most beautiful smile he'd ever seen on her. "I love you too, Sherlock."

Feeling a sense of wonder, he put his arms around her and closed his eyes as he moved in to kiss her, but bumped noses with her instead. Of course, he had no idea how to kiss a woman, having never done so.

He drew back, flushing with embarrassment as Molly wrinkled her nose in amusement at his botched attempt.

Fortunately, she was not in the least put off, and proved herself to be willing to give him some instruction. "You tilt your head one way and I'll do the same on my end," she said with an encouraging smile. "You just have to decide if we are going to tilt left or right - which way do you think?"

He appreciated the fact that she was giving him some control. He pondered a moment.

"Right, I think," he decided finally, and she nodded.

He followed through with his decision, and this time, their lips met in a kiss so infinitely sweet he wished he had experienced it with her much earlier than this moment. He followed her lead, opening his mouth when she did so, savouring the sensation of her lips for the first time.

His heart was beating wildly in his chest, and when their lips parted, he noticed immediately that they were both panting slightly.

He rested his forehead against hers and declared, unable to keep the euphoria from his voice, "Bloody hell, that was 'fantastic!"

Molly gave a delighted giggle. "You really never kissed a woman before?" she asked, in a tone of wonder and almost disbelief.

 _Apparently my kiss wasn't complete rubbish,_ he thought, rather smugly.

He shook his head. "I never wanted to, until you came along."

She seemed a little surprised at his confession. Then she asked, rather hesitantly, "You really love me? Truly?"

Why is she so insecure? Haven't I expressed myself clearly in both words and actions?

He felt a little hurt that she might think he was doing this for some ulterior motive. Then again, hadn't he manipulated her in the distant past? She could be forgiven for being anxious about his sincerity. Obviously, Molly needed reassurance, which he was prepared to give her.

He tightened his arms around her. "Would I be letting you teach me how to kiss if I didn't?" he asked with a reassuring smile. Then he added, "I suppose at some point, I will require your assistance with the other aspects of our relationship as well, not that I'm ready for that kind of thing just yet. For now, I am quite content just being with you and kissing you, working on my technique."

Molly's face suddenly registered embarrassment, as she pulled away slightly from him. "Uh, Sherlock, if you are referring to what I think you are referring to, I...well, I can't teach you anything about that, because I, as you would say, lack the practical experience."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow in genuine amazement at her admission. "Molly Hooper, are you meaning to tell me you lied to me earlier today about your and Tom's, er, quite frequent sexual activities?"

He didn't like to pry about something so personal, but now he felt compelled to discover the truth, once and for all.

He had suspected she had been lying earlier, but not necessarily that she had _never_ been intimate with her fiancé. That seemed rather unusual, given his limited experience with viewing relationships as an outsider. John had certainly had several sexual partners, and he was now already living with Mary. So the concept of sexual intimacy without the benefit of marriage was not foreign to him. Mycroft himself made no secret of the fact that he had had several liaisons over the years as well.

Molly blushed, her cheeks turning what he thought was a delightful shade of pink. "I know I shouldn't have lied, but I was hoping for some kind of reaction from you. Of course, I should've known better, seeing as you never reveal your innermost thoughts."

"Except for now." Sherlock released his hold on Molly, then grasped her hand and led her back to the sofa so they could sit once again.

He turned slightly to face her, his knee brushing hers, and worded his question carefully. "Would you mind my asking why you've not been intimate with anyone? It's not like you've led an emotionally repressed life the way I have."

She didn't look at him, choosing instead to focus on their still joined hands. "Guess I'm old-fashioned that way. I'd like a ring on my finger first."

Sherlock was surprised, but not unpleasantly so. It certainly seemed a rare occurrence to find anyone these days who conformed to the values of the distant past.

He stared down at her hand, now without the ring. "Well, you did have a ring on your finger not so long ago," he pointed out.

She glanced up shyly. "I mean a wedding ring. Besides, I didn't feel any need to rush into anything with Tom. I was happy to wait."

 _Most unusual,_ Sherlock observed silently. Perhaps the idea of sex alarms her?

"And he felt the same way?"

Molly bit her lip, then admitted, "Not exactly. But he didn't pressure me too much."

Sherlock frowned at that. "I would hope he would not have pressured you at all. Isn't mutual consent a key element to indulging in such an intimate activity?"

She nodded. "Of course, but most people don't wait as long as Tom did for me, and to be honest, I feel quite guilty about that."

Sherlock gently reached his free hand to tilt her chin upwards so she was looking directly into his eyes. "I suppose I can understand his desire to be with you. I might find such a long wait rather inconvenient, but I would never attempt to bend you to my will, if I were ready to take our relationship further and you were not. I hope you know that, Molly."

He was still holding her other hand, and now he squeezed it gently.

"I do know that, Sherlock, and I...well, I don't think I'd find it so easy to wait that long to be with _you_ that way." She blushed at her own admission.

 _Does that mean she might conceivably be interested in sexual intimacy with me in the near future?_

It was both an interesting and alarming notion. All this discussion about sex was making Sherlock feel vaguely uncomfortable. This was not a conversation they needed to have right now, anyway. He barely knew how to kiss, let alone think about those other things.

"So..." he said hesitantly, trying not to think about what it would feel like to experience _that_ with Molly, "now that you find yourself no longer committed to another man, do you think you would be ready to initiate a new relationship of a romantic nature - with me?"

For the first time since she had entered the flat, Molly chuckled, and it was a most welcome sound to Sherlock. "I love your quaint turns of phrase, Sherlock. It would hardly be fitting to refuse your request, seeing as we've already declared our love and sealed it with a kiss. So yes, to put it in everyday terms - I'll be your girlfriend."

She leaned towards him. "Why don't we seal the deal with another kiss -or two - or three?"

Sherlock willingly closed the last few inches between them and kissed her, feeling warmth spread through his body, the first flickers of a heretofore unknown desire making itself known. He was definitely looking forward to exploring this new, romantic aspect of his relationship with the woman who had captured his heart when he wasn't expecting it.

* * *

 **Author's note:** I guess I could end it here...

Would you like to see where this leads?

Were you clever enough to detect the canon I inserted? Did you enjoy seeing Sherlock's complete inexperience when it came to kissing?

Your reviews are important to me. They are like the water that nourishes the tree of my creativity. Sadly I've seen the creativity of many authors wither and due due to lack of that nourishment.

Don't just be a passive reader - be a passionate one and venture your opinion on what you read (not just my stories either, I mean in general). This fandom is severely in need of reader support, especially now. If you care about it, keep your authors active with your encouragement!

 **1/25/20** Italics removed and minor corrections made.


	4. Engaged in a Secret Plan

A few days later, Mary and John were over at Baker Street. The last of the wedding RSVP's had come in and Sherlock was, for the second time, helping to adjust the seating arrangement.

Mary was sitting in a chair, facing Sherlock's desk, and the list was in her hands. "So," she remarked to Sherlock, "we will have one empty space at this table." She pointed with her pen to the seating arrangement for the table at which Molly would be sitting.

"Really?" asked John, peering over at the list with interest, from where he was seated in his usual chair. "I thought that table was full."

Mary turned to look at him. "It was, but Molly told me yesterday that Tom isn't coming. Apparently the engagement's off." She gave Sherlock a suspiciously shrewd look. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

John looked from Mary to Sherlock, and back again. "Why would Sherlock know anything about it?" he questioned in some confusion.

Sherlock shifted his casual stance to clasp his hands behind his back in a more formal manner. "Er, yes, well, I might know something about that," he admitted, trying but not quite succeeding at keeping his tone matter-of-fact.

John glowered at him. "So help me, Sherlock, if you've done something to sabotage Molly's happiness, I will kick your arse."

"John!" exclaimed Mary immediately. "I'm sure that Sherlock would not have done anything of the sort." Then she arched an eyebrow at Sherlock, seeking confirmation for her defense of him. "Would you?"

Sherlock looked at his friends a little guiltily - after all, he had been planning to do something of that nature. "I may have considered saying something to her, but in the end, it was her decision to break off her engagement."

John looked at him in surprise. "So you knew already about it?"

Sherlock attempted a nonchalant shrug. "She came here, after she ended it."

That earned a suspicious look from his friend. "Since when have you become such good friends again? I thought you were avoiding her, outside of work. At least that's what she told Mary." Then he added, somewhat to Sherlock's embarrassment, "It's not like _you_ tell me anything these days."

Sherlock lifted his chin slightly. "Well, Mary is - surprisingly - easy to talk to. You, on the other hand, still tend to treat me like a child at times," he said, huffing a little.

John gave him an incredulous look. "What else would you expect? It's because you act like one. Look at the way you behaved when I thought we were going to get blown up on that train carriage. You let me believe we were going to die."

"Car, not carriage," corrected Sherlock automatically, recalling that conversation from months earlier with Shilcott, the train enthusiast. _Ah, I enjoyed that day with Molly immensely,_ he thought, drifting off into a daydream and smiling at the memory.

John's voice brought him back to reality. "My God, Sherlock, what is with you? As I said, you tend to behave like a child, so sometimes I treat you like one."

Sherlock tried to recall what John was talking about. Oh yes, he had acted like a bit of an arse that day in the train car, most certainly, but he had also wanted to secure John's forgiveness.

"Well, that was months ago, John. Things have changed since then."

John folded his arms in front of him and gave Sherlock a hard look. "I suppose you're going to tell me you're now seeing Molly?"

Sherlock was rather surprised that his friend had stumbled upon the truth. "Well, as a matter of fact…"

Mary shot up from her chair. "I knew it!" she exclaimed exultantly. "I knew you had a thing for each other but were just too stubborn to admit it."

Sherlock gave her an admiring look. Mary was a perceptive woman, and he had no doubt she had recognized the signs before he had. "All due to you, Mary. It was your comment about Molly not setting a wedding date that got me thinking," he admitted. "It was at that time I realized that perhaps her affections were not as engaged as they should have been, considering she was affianced."

Mary grinned. "In that case, I'm glad I was able to give you a push in the right direction."

Sherlock noticed that John was still looking at him in astonishment. He couldn't blame his friend, he supposed. He'd never shown any interest in women before, well, except for his intellectual interest in Irene Adler, of course.

At that moment, the sound of footsteps on the stairs could be heard. "Ah, that will be Molly now, I gave her a key, you know. We had hoped to tell you about us together, but you forced my hand," he said, addressing Mary with a note of recrimination in his voice.

Mary just smirked at him, and he couldn't help grinning back.

Sherlock went to the door, opened it, and dipped his head to kiss Molly, deliberately prolonging the embrace so his friends could be in no doubt that he was sincere in his intentions towards her.

When they broke apart from their embrace, Molly gave him a rather confused look and remarked, "If you were planning on us sharing the news with John and Mary together, I think you just dropped the ball on that one."

Sherlock smiled wryly. "I had to tell them. Mary mentioned that you had broken off your engagement, and I had to admit that I already knew. I'm afraid matters escalated after that and I was forced to confess that you and I have entered a romantic relationship."

He put his arm around Molly and placed a mollifying kiss upon her cheek, then walked with her to join John and Mary, who were both now standing together.

John was shaking his head. "If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe it."

Sherlock gave him a pained look. "Why is it so hard to believe that I should be attracted to this intelligent, extremely beautiful woman?" he demanded, a little belligerently.

John smirked. "Oh, that's not so hard to believe. What's hard to believe is that she would still be interested in you," he pronounced, nevertheless giving Sherlock a friendly nudge and wink, and the four of them shared a laugh.

Sherlock was fully aware he deserved that little dig. But, he was going to prove that his intentions were honourable, and he had long term plans for Molly.

Later that evening, when the women were talking about the bridesmaids dresses and what Molly was planning to wear for the wedding, Sherlock took John aside.

"John, I need your help." Then he outlined his plan to John, in detail.

"Are you sure you want to do this, mate?" John asked his friend, rather perplexed. "You and Molly have just got together. You even told me once that you were not interested in romantic entanglements, so this is quite a turnaround for you."

Sherlock frowned and looked down at John, crossing his arms in front of him. "This would seem to me to be the next logical step for Molly and myself. Your wedding is still a month away, so it isn't like I am rushing into it that quickly. Do not forget, we have known each other for many years. Now that I have come to terms with the fact that I love her, I would think you would be more sympathetic to my plight. I want her to know I am ready to take things to the next level, as they say, and I think your wedding day would be the perfect time for it to happen."

John gazed thoughtfully at Sherlock, then nodded. "Well, if you're sure, who am I to stand in the way of true love?" He glanced over at the women, who were still absorbed in conversation, then he looked at Sherlock again. "Listen mate, do you need my help in finding what you need? They do come in an assortment of shapes and fits, you know. You can even get different colours. I mean, I'm sure you want everything to be perfect for Molly, don't you? You don't want it slipping off because you didn't get the right size, do you?"

Sherlock uncrossed hus arms and wiped his palms, which had suddenly turned sweaty, on his trousers. "Perhaps you're right, you do have experience with this, and I am completely lacking in this particular area. Is it too early in our relationship for her to be ready for such a big step? What if she says no?" His voice held a note of uncertainty in it.

John patted his arm. "To be honest, Sherlock. I sincerely doubt she would say no. She broke up with Tom for you, didn't she?"

Sherlock ventured a glance over at Molly and noticed she and Mary were now looking in their direction, having apparently finished their conversation. In a louder voice he said, "Yes John, that is correct. And I would most appreciate your help with this important case." He gave John a meaningful look.

"Alright then, Sherlock. Should we go out tomorrow then?" He gave Sherlock a conspiratorial wink, keeping his back towards the women.

"That would be most excellent, John," responded Sherlock. Raising an eyebrow at his friend, he asked, in a quieter tone, "Shall we say one o'clock?"

John looked over at Mary. "As long as Mary doesn't have other plans for me." He addressed her. "Alright if I go out with Sherlock tomorrow on this case of his?"

Mary smiled. "Of course. You two need to go out and do something together. It will be a good distraction from wedding planning." She turned to Molly and remarked, "Those two have been going stir crazy lately. It will be good for them to get out."

Sherlock walked over to Molly. "I'll make sure we are done before you've finished work tomorrow. Remember, we have reservations for dinner at Angelo's."

Molly stood and placed her hands on his shoulders, looking up at him in a way that made his heartbeat quicken. Oh, he was so ready for this next step, he knew it in his heart. "I can't wait for our first official 'date'," she told him.

Deciding he didn't even care if John and Mary were watching, Sherlock smiled and bent his head to kiss Molly, thoroughly enjoying the way her lips felt under his, and the way his technique had improved even in the few short days since they had first kissed. They had so much to learn from one another and he looked forward to experiencing all of these new things for the first time together.

Oh yes, the game was on, but this time it wasn't a game. He was deadly serious.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Well now, what could Sherlock be planning? Could it be a seduction?

Hazard your guesses and post your review with your thoughts on what Sherlock is planning. Don't you enjoy making your own deductions?

Come on, don't be stingy about sharing your opinion, I'd really like to know what you think - I am not a mind reader :)

 **1/25/20** Italics removed and minor corrections made.


	5. New Engagement

It was the day of John and Mary's wedding, and Sherlock was feeling a sense of anticipation as well as nervousness about the day ahead.

He and John had discussed things, and John had given him his blessing.

Things between him and Molly were good, wonderful, in fact. He had been enjoying having her around more, practicing his kissing technique. This new aspect of the relationship was something very special, and he knew for certain that she was the only woman who he could contemplate being with. In fact, he knew he wanted the relationship to be a permanent one.

During the wedding, his eyes shifted constantly towards Molly, who was looking radiant in her floral dress with a bow in her hair. In Sherlock's considered opinion, she outshone the bride, although of course, now that he was trying to be more sensitive to others, he was too tactful to say so. After all, he did wish to maintain his friendship with John and Mary.

Just outside the church, after the confetti had been thrown, the chief bridesmaid came up to him and said, "The famous Mr. Holmes. I'm very pleased to meet you, but no sex, okay?"

He was a little discombobulated by the forward comment, but managed to say, "Sorry?" He supposed she was attractive - dark-haired, Irish accent, if you went in for that sort of thing. Had she said something about sex?

"You don't have to look so scared. I'm only messin'," the woman responded. "Bridesmaid, best man, it's a bit traditional."

Sherlock was barely listening. He was more interested in looking at Molly, who was talking to Mrs. Hudson. "Is it?" he questioned distractedly.

"But not obligatory," she added, seeming to realize he was completely disinterested in the conversation.

Finally he glanced at her. "Sorry, my affections are otherwise engaged, but if that's the sort of thing you're looking for..." He went on to give her several options for suitable men.

Then he walked off to speak with the woman he loved, on whom his attention had been primarily focussed throughout the short conversation.

He approached Mrs. Hudson and Molly. "You look lovely, Mrs. Hudson," he said politely, bending to give her a peck on the cheek. He then glanced at Molly for approval with his new, sensitive man persona. She gave him a slight smile, and he knew she recognized and appreciated the effort.

"Thank you, dear. You're too kind to an old woman like me," Mrs. Hudson simpered.

Sherlock smiled at her before turning his attention to Molly properly. He picked up her hand and kissed it. "And you look breathtaking, Molly."

Molly gave him one of those smiles that melted his heart. "Thank you, Sherlock. You look wonderful yourself."

Their words were commonplace enough, but there was a wealth of meaning in what remained unspoken, in the emotion their eyes conveyed to each other.

 _I love you. I adore you. I'm yours_.

Oh what the heck, he thought then, placing his arms around her to draw her in for a slightly longer kiss than propriety dictated.

"I still can't believe you finally got your act together, Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson piped up fondly after he pulled back from the embrace.

"It would've been sooner, if Molly hadn't been engaged when I came back to London," he said, casting a glance at Molly, who swatted his arm.

"So that would be all my fault then, would it?" she asked playfully.

"Yep," he asserted, giving her another quick kiss to show he was only teasing. He noticed John gesturing to him. "Gotta go, love. I'll talk to you later."

Sherlock was disappointed that he and Molly could not sit together during the reception, but tried to not let that distract him too much from doing his best man speech.

Of course, the best man speech did not turn out as he had expected, seeing as he had to solve a case in the middle of it and prevent an attempted murder. He and Molly hardly had a chance to even talk until that was accomplished, but at last it was time to implement his own plan for the evening.

Sherlock was almost ready to play the piece he had written for the newlyweds, but he needed some assistance. Being aware of what he planned to do, Mary was only too happy to help.

"There you go," she said, after helping him remove his boutonnière and attach a small object to it.

"Good luck, although I'm sure you won't need it," she said, smiling at him.

Sherlock placed the boutonnière on his music stand and picked up his violin. As soon as John and Mary were in position on the dance floor, he began to play.

When he finished playing the song, Sherlock put down his violin and picked up the boutonnière. With careful aim he threw it, and Molly caught it. As he had hoped, once she had caught it, she did not look at it but instead smiled at him.

Sherlock addressed the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, just one last thing before the evening begins properly. Apologies for earlier. A crisis arose, and was dealt with. More importantly however, today we saw two people make vows. I've never made a vow in my life and after tonight, I only plan to do that once more." He looked directly at Molly as he spoke the last words.

Her gaze never strayed from his as he made his vow to John and Mary, to be there for all three of them, er, two of them. He would have to explain that little slip to them later, but first he had an important task to take care of, one that involved Molly.

As soon as the dance music started, he walked over to her.

"That was lovely, Sherlock," she said, "and thank you for the rose."

"Look it it properly, Molly," he told her. She was still holding the boutonnière. With a questioning look at him first, she opened up her hands to view the rose, then gasped as she saw something else.

And there, at the edge of the dance floor, he dropped onto one knee, taking the rose back from her now nerveless fingers and pulling off the ring he had attached to it. "Molly, I know we haven't been romantically involved for long, but we have known each other and been friends for several years before changing the dynamics of our relationship. I know my heart, and I think I know yours as well." He held the ring out to her, a heart shaped diamond solitaire. "As I said a few minutes ago, I only plan on making one more vow, and I want it to be the one I give you on our wedding day, when we make our relationship a permanent one. Molly Hooper, my love, will you marry me?"

Tears were forming in Molly's eyes and she responded, "Yes Sherlock, of course I'll marry you!"

He stood and placed the ring on her finger amidst a smattering of applause from the handful of people who had noticed what was going on. This included, of course, John and Mary, who had generously given him permission to share their special day, and Mrs. Hudson, who was practically beside herself with excitement over the turn of events.

Then he took Molly in his arms and kissed her tenderly, before leading her on to the dance floor.

Later in the evening they sat together and discussed when they should get married. Molly's hand was clasped in his own, and he looked intently into her luminous brown eyes. "Molly, I don't want to wait eight months or longer for you. I've waited enough years as it is, mostly through my own foolishness. How soon will you marry me?"

"As soon as we can do it legally," she told him. "I don't want to wait long, either." Then she added, "I know you don't believe in God - you certainly made it clear earlier today, but I do, and I insist we marry in a church, not some registry office."

Sherlock nodded and said slowly, "I must admit, my words from earlier were a little insensitive. To be honest, I have never seriously considered whether God really exists. Perhaps I may have been in error on that account." He spoke seriously, thoughtfully. If Molly, who was a very intelligent woman of science herself, believed in God, he had to at least entertain the possibility that she could be right, and he wrong.

"Thank you," she said softly, looking at him with such an expression of love in her eyes, that he immediately started to seriously entertain the thought that this woman had been made for him by something more than a coincidence of nature.

As to when they wanted to tie the knot, he was glad they were on the same page. They were both finding it hard to keep to just kissing by now, but Sherlock wanted to honour Molly's convictions in waiting to be intimate. He had a feeling they would fail in their quest to wait if they did not marry sooner, rather than later.

The following day, Sherlock and Molly were sitting on the sofa together at Baker Street, and he was looking at his laptop in consternation.

"Twenty-eight days? We have to give twenty-eight days notice to get married?" he grumbled, staring at the screen as if he could change the law by doing so.

Molly chuckled and laid a placating hand on his arm. "We only just got engaged last night. I think we can wait a month. Besides - don't you want John and Mary to be there? They were going away for almost that long, remember?"

"Yes, on their sex holiday. I'm rather anxious to get to that part myself." He gave Molly a smouldering look and she blushed.

"I'm sorry, Sherlock. I did tell you how I felt about waiting. I'm finding it rather difficult though myself," she admitted, leaning her head briefly against his took her hands in his and looked into her eyes. "That's one of the things I love most about you. It's the fact that your values mean so much to you. I can wait for you as long as it takes, because I love you." He leaned in to kiss her, savouring her sweetness.

 _All this kissing practice is most enjoyable in the meantime,_ he thought, and he knew their wedding night would be extra special.

Hasty preparations were made for a very small, intimate wedding. A little over a month later, in the presence of friends, family and God, Sherlock and Molly made their own vows to one another in her church.

Late that night, as the newlyweds basked in the afterglow of being intimate for the first time, Sherlock held his wife contentedly in his arms. He lay awake for some time, thinking.

At John and Mary's wedding, he had denied God's existence, but he knew now this wasn't true. He and Molly were soulmates. That meant, logically, that someone greater than man had created them to be together. He had felt that presence in the church where they made their vows.

"Molly, are you still awake?" He drifted a hand lightly across her bare skin, which elicited a giggle from her.

"I am now – that tickles!" She squirmed a little at his delicate touch.

"Molly, I have to tell you something."

"Now?" she asked sleepily, looking up into his face.

He tightened his arms around her. "Yes, now. I wanted to tell you I felt it, in the church today."

"Felt what?" she questioned in a confused tone, her brow furrowing.

"I felt God - He's real, Molly, I know he is. And I know he made us for each other." He spoke with assurance.

She chuckled. "I knew you would figure that out eventually." She pressed a soft kiss to his chest.

"And you know what else?" he asked in his deepest baritone which he knew never failed to thrill Molly. His hands began to move along her body and he gave her a lingering kiss, feeling that ache to be with her again.

When their lips parted, she asked a little breathlessly, "What?"

"I'm ready for round two." His hand drifted along her sweet curves.

"You make it sound like you are at a boxing match," she responded, gasping a little at his possessive touch.

"I was trying to be subtle," he told her, moving his hand back upwards to caress her face gently, reverently.

"What do you need, Sherlock?" she asked playfully, turning to face him properly, then winding her arms around his neck.

"You," he whispered, before covering her mouth and body with his own.

Oh yes, it was definitely a wedding night worth waiting for.

* * *

 **Author's note:** I hope you enjoyed my latest flight of fancy.

So, yeah, if you are not familiar with my other stories, this was a dream, and my Sherlock and Molly, from _A Journey to Love, Faith and Marriage,_ did wait till they were married to make love. The dreams may not always have them wait - they are dreams after all. In this instance, with Molly admitting she hadn't slept with Tom, I wanted to explain why, which meant her values would have applied with Sherlock as well; but yeah, they would have definitely been wanting to marry as soon as possible with all that pent up sexual tension.

The one thing that I will always be consistent with is that my Sherlock and Molly have never been intimate with anyone else, and the fact that they are soulmates who belong together. Any stories that show them being intimate before the wedding, will always end with them at least being engaged, to show the permanence of their relationship. I firmly believe that marriage is the right ending for a lifetime relationship, and that's why I write it that way.

Feel free to share your thoughts on this little story. Don't be afraid of hurting my feelings if you have issues with it that you want to share. Are the characters too OOC for you uAll reviews are welcome, positive or negative. Be constructive though in your criticism, however, if it is forthcoming.

 **1/25/20** Italics removed and minor corrections made.


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